


Waiting For You

by akamine_chan



Category: Eastwick (TV), Shattered
Genre: Community: duesouth_kink, Hand Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the past, the mad had been considered to be touched by the gods, and Darryl could almost see the hand prints all over Ben.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting For You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dreamwidth community duesouth_kink
> 
> Unbeta'd.
> 
> Prompt: finger sucking

Darryl watched Ben come back, his personality washing over Ben's body, sinking into the pores of Ben's skin, like clouds moving to reveal the sun. It was a fascinating transition, one that Darryl always liked to observe. Ben held his body differently, settled into it and made it his own, like putting on a coat. The alters, they didn't quite _fit_ into Ben's body, and it showed. They shared Ben's body, but they didn't _own_ it, weren't comfortable with it.

In the past, the mad had been considered to be touched by the gods, and Darryl could almost see the hand prints all over Ben. He liked Ben's madness, it was a subtle scent that followed Ben around like a perfume. Some people sensed it and shied away from Ben; others _saw_ Ben's madness on a subconscious level and _responded_ to it...

Darryl continued what he was doing, ignoring the sudden tension in Ben's body, lean muscles tight and rigid. He focused on Ben's index finger, licking it, sliding it into the heat of his mouth and sucking, the bright tang of Ben's blood an interesting contrast to the salt-sweat taste. Darryl loved Ben's hands, the long fingers and bony joints and the weird distorted shape of his thumbs.

"Mmm." He let his voice rumble low in his chest, almost like a purr. It was a familiar sound to Ben, and Darryl felt him relax a little. "You back?"

Ben closed his eyes and relaxed, falling back against the pillow. "Yeah. Where are we?" He opened his eyes as Darryl moved his mouth to the next finger, licking and teasing. "Is that _blood_?"

Darryl chuckled and watched Ben shiver at the sound. "Yours. I think you were in a bar fight somewhere. You showed up in the lobby, bloody and beaten, stinking of cheap alcohol and smoke. Frankly, your alter was more interested in getting laid than talking."

"Fucker," Ben muttered.

"Oh, we hadn't gotten that far." Darryl kept his voice smooth and silky. "I was waiting for _you_."

Darryl held Ben's gaze as he licked, long, wet strokes. He rubbed his lips across the knuckle, nibbled his way down to the webbing between the fingers, ignoring the way Ben gasped softly and twisted a little on the dark sheets.

"Darryl..."

"I'm getting quite a reputation because of you." Darryl turned Ben's hand over and licked the palm, using the point of his tongue to trace the multiple life lines. He could sense the resonance of Ben's pain there, the physical and the emotional, stretching back through time. So much of fear... "The doorman is sure that you are a cheap hustler that I send for when I'm in one of my _moods_." Darryl laughed softly. He pressed soft kisses to Ben's heart line, with its zigs and zags, echoing the loves of Ben's life: his wife, his son, his job.

"Well, it's true in a way, isn't it?" Bitterness flavored Ben's words, acrid in Darryl's ear. "I owe you, and this is how I pay."

Darryl pulled back, contemplating the surge of anger Ben's words provoked. He raked his eyes over Ben's naked form, head to toe, lingering over his cock, erect between his long legs. A blush washed over Ben, and Darryl smiled with a touch of smugness. "That's not why your alter keeps bringing you back." He leaned back in and set his teeth on the muscles of Ben's neck, biting hard. Ben jerked, a groan escaping from between his clenched teeth. "Be honest with yourself, Ben. What goes on in this bed has nothing to do with payment," Darryl breathed into his ear.

"Fuck," Ben whispered, turning his face away. "Fuck."

Darryl laughed again, and went back to work on Ben's hand. He licked across the palm, getting it wet, before moving Ben's hand down to his own cock, wrapping his fingers around Ben's, tightening their grip. Ben moaned and thrust up a little, pushing into their combined clasp, searching for friction. Darryl watched, almost hypnotized by the way Ben moved, his body lithe and lean, sweating a little.

"You're gorgeous like this, you know." Darryl kept his voice deep and a little rough. "Sexy." He tightened his fingers around Ben's and slid their hands up and down Ben's cock, stroking on the good side of rough. "I like watching you, watching your face when the pleasure wraps around you, watching your eyes turn smoky and flutter shut—"

"Darryl—"

Darryl liked the way Ben said his name, breathless and needy. "You don't like admitting that you want this, but you do, don't you?" He slowed the movement of their hands down, teasing. Ben closed his eyes, trying to hide, but Darryl refused to let him. He pulled their hands away from Ben's cock, which was hard and wet, ignoring Ben's soft cry of protest. "Tell me." Leaning in, Darryl kissed Ben softly. "Tell me what you want, and you just might get it."

Ben laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "And owe you even more?"

Darryl ignored that. "You want me to suck you off, let you fuck my mouth? Or do you want my—our hands again?" Another soft kiss, at the corner of Ben's mouth. Darryl infinitely preferred seduction to force, and he was good at it. "You want to fuck me, shove my face into a pillow and pound into my ass?" He grinned, enjoying the arousal and need that flushed Ben's face. "Or you want me to fuck you? Tell me." He let his voice drop to a sultry whisper as Ben shuddered.

"Yes," he panted, looking dazed and lost. "Yes, all of it. Please."

Darryl slid down the bed, shouldering Ben's legs further apart. "Yes," he echoed, opening his mouth and swallowing Ben's cock, loving the slip and the slide of it in his mouth, the contrast between soft and hard, and the heat of it. Above him, Ben groaned loudly and threaded his fingers through Darryl's hair, holding on.

Darryl relaxed the muscles in his throat and let Ben push deep, riding that edge between enough and too much. He held onto Ben's hips, pulling him in and in and _in_ with each thrust, helping Ben keep the rhythm as he panted and cursed and keened his pleasure, fingers pulling hard on Darryl's hair.

It didn't take long, with Ben so close to the edge. Darryl felt the shivers wracking Ben as he came, crying out Darryl's name in a choked voice. He swallowed, again and again, Ben's flavor astringent on Darryl's tongue. He gentled his mouth and slowly pulled away, looking at the picture Ben made, bruised and beaten, satisfied and exhausted, broken.

Like an ancient sacrifice to pleasure. The sight pleased Darryl, satisfied the dark heart of him. He pulled the covers over both of them, pulled Ben close, and let himself drift off to sleep.

-fin-


End file.
